


Easy, Love

by Konfessor2U



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Asexual Relationship, Asexual Sherlock, Bisexual John Watson, Confessions, Cuddles, Fix-It, Fluff, Johnlock - Freeform, Kissing, M/M, Parentlock, Post series 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2017-02-01
Packaged: 2018-09-21 10:37:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9544190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Konfessor2U/pseuds/Konfessor2U
Summary: One quiet day in 221B, Sherlock finally tells John how he feels.A post S4 fix-it.





	

Sherlock came out of his mind palace with a start, fingers stilling on the violin strings abruptly. A quick glance to the clock revealed that it was just after 3 o’clock in the afternoon. John was fast asleep on the sofa, with his legs propped up on the coffee table, crossed at the ankles. Little Rosie was laid on his chest, breathing deeply, one tiny thumb stuck in her mouth.

Sherlock smiled to himself at how domestic it was. Seven months had passed since Sherrinford, and they’d settled back into a routine, one akin to their early days. Days full of obscure cases from his blog, and occasional consults with the Yard. John had since picked up his old position at the surgery a few days a week. Despite all that has happened since The Fall, everything was quite normal. Sherlock usually viewed that as boring, but with John, he thinks normal suits him. Suits _them._

He laid his violin back in its case and stretched his hands above his head, wincing as his back cracked, and both shoulders popped in their joints. Assuming it was still Tuesday, he calculated that he had been immersed in his mind palace for approximately five hours.

Sherlock stood and went to the sofa where John and Rosie looked so peaceful cuddling together. He thought he should really wake John. John always had trouble sleeping through the night when he napped during the day. Instead, Sherlock scooped Rosie into his arms. She didn’t wake completely, but turned a sleepy face into his neck and snuffled quietly as he carried her up the stairs.

He was about to put the kettle on when he stopped to look at John again. He knew should wake him. It was selfish but he wanted a moment more to just look at him. John’s hair was more grey than blonde now, from the stress Sherlock surmises. It was longer too, swept back and to the side with hair product, but still looking soft enough to run his hands through. Sherlock’s fingers twitched at the thought. 

_I should wake him. And then I should tell him._ Sherlock nodded curtly, agreeing with his inner monologue. _Yes, I’ll tell him now._

Sherlock stood there awkwardly, debating whether to sit next to John on the couch or stay standing. After a few minutes of deliberating, he sat on the coffee table across from him, with John’s feet brushing the side of his thigh.

He laid a hand on one of John’s ankles, his thumb tracing the bone and fingers slipping up under the leg of John’s trousers. He was fascinated and comforted by the feeling of warm skin under his fingers. It made him feel happy and confident that he could do this. He was finally going to tell John that he was in love with him.

“John.” He called softly, squeezing the man’s ankle.

John looked frantic for a moment when he opened his eyes and realised Rosie was no longer in his arms. He looked at Sherlock, eyes wide and filled with worry.

“I put her down for her nap,” Sherlock explained, waving his other hand at the baby monitor next to him.

John sagged with relief, but quickly tensed up again as he realized that Sherlock’s hand was on his foot. “What are you doing, Sherlock?”

“I have something I need to tell you.” He paused then and almost lost his nerve. He let go of John’s leg and scrubbed his hands over his face to align his thoughts. “Okay. I’ve wanted to say it for a long time. You were right. The opportunity passes before you know it. And it did, it passed.”

John was now leaning forward on the sofa with his feet on the ground, bringing them closer than Sherlock was ready for. He straightened up a bit to give himself some space.

“I never said anything when we first met because it’s,” Sherlock paused, his lips pressed together tightly, and eyes boring though the wall.

“Sherlock?” John rested a hand on his knee, encouraging him to go on.

“Unconventional.” Sherlock nodded to himself, satisfied with his choice of words.  “So many things have happened since then, and it was never the right time. But I want you to know now. I love you.”

John was staring at him like he had that first night when he was completely enthralled with Sherlock deducing him from the tiniest of clues.

“I’ve always loved you, but I was afraid you didn’t feel the same way, and there was always someone else for you.” It sounded spiteful and jealous despite his best efforts to come across as indifferent.

“But then Moriarty happened, then Mary was here, and then Magnussen.  You had Rosie and Mary, and seemed happy. And I still loved you. Then Eurus came along, and I’ve…”  Sherlock sighed heavily. “I’ve changed as a person, but my feelings for you haven’t. Please, John, say something to stop me rambling.”

“I love you, too, Sherlock.” The grip on Sherlock’s knee tightened. Their eyes met and they seemed to drift closer together, both leaning in but too afraid to close the distance.

“Can I kiss you now?” John asked, his voice barely a rasp, and his breath hot on Sherlock’s face.

Sherlock panicked. He wanted to kiss John, but he knew where kissing could lead. Kissing lead to touching each other, and touching lead to sex. He wanted to kiss John.

“Yes, but,” Sherlock shied away, and sat back a bit. John waited patiently for him to get his thoughts together. “I want to kiss you. But I don’t want… I’m not.” He huffed out a frustrated sigh. Emotions always made his thoughts fuzzy at the edges, difficult to grasp.

“It’s ok, Sherlock. Let’s just kiss, yeah?”

Sherlock nodded and allowed John to pull him closer with a gentle guiding hand at the back of his neck. “That’s it, just kissing.” John reassured him. When their lips met, Sherlock felt John smile against him. It was only a short, dry, closed lipped kiss, but it meant everything.

“I love you,” Sherlock rumbled again.

“I know. I love you too, you idiot. Get over here.”

They rearranged themselves on the couch so they were facing each other, lying on their sides. They shared another small kiss on the lips, and Sherlock felt brave enough to explain himself.

“I don’t want sex.”

“Okay.”

“At all, ever. I’m not sexually attracted to you. Or anyone, actually. Although, I can appreciate that you are attractive.”

“Alright.” John was smiling at him.

“Just alright?” Sherlock had feared that John would be halfway out the door by now. He knew John’s sexual history and figured that it was a necessary thing in order to be in a relationship with him.

“Well, I know three things, Sherlock. I love you. Rosie loves you. I want to be with you for the rest of my life.”

“John,” Sherlock started to protest, but John put a finger to his lips to quiet him.

“I don’t care if you’re never interested in sex. I really don’t care, as long as we can live together, raise Rosie together, and grow old together.”

It took Sherlock a moment to process. It made him giddy with happiness to hear John say that. He wanted the same. But as always, the doubt crept in at the edges of his consciousness.

“What about your own needs? You surely can’t go without sex for the rest of your life.” It was the most self-deprecating thing that John had ever heard Sherlock say, however despite that, he threw back his head and laughed deeply, which left Sherlock looking puzzled.

“I’m old, Sherlock, I don’t need any more rambunctious sexcapades. My hand does the job just fine now, it has done for a while. Though, I can’t deny that I won’t think of you when I do it,” he added more shyly.

This intrigued Sherlock, and he leaned up on one elbow. “You think of me?” He thoroughly enjoyed the blush that coloured John’s face and neck.

“Yeah, I mean, look at you! You’re bloody gorgeous, and brilliant to boot.”

Sherlock visibly preened at the compliments.

“Is that okay?” John asked seriously.

“Yes, John. You can think of me while you masturbate.” Sherlock just wanted to see John blush again.

“Oh god, stop it!” Their giggles dissolved into soppy smiles and more kisses. John’s fingers sifted through Sherlock’s curls and he could swear the detective purred in response.

“So, kissing is good, and cuddling is good?” John wanted it to be clear, he wanted this to work.

“Mmm, I crave love and physical contact, the same as most people.”

John kissed him again, this time delving deeper with his tongue. Sherlock responded positively by opening up to him, twisting his fists in John’s shirt, and sighing happily. They were grinning stupidly at each other when Rosie voiced protest through the speaker of the baby monitor.

“I’ll get her.” Sherlock was on his feet and up the stairs in seconds. John could hear him cooing and consoling Rosie over the baby monitor.  Tears welled up in his eyes as he stared up at the ceiling, hardly able to believe what just happened. _Yes, this is fine_ , he thought.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!!! Leave me some love. ;)  
> Cheers!
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> [My Tumblr](http://konfessor2u.tumblr.com/)


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